


Order

by Zyrieen



Category: Leverage
Genre: Dom/sub, Gen, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:01:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrieen/pseuds/Zyrieen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something in him that craves discipline. Not punishment, not retribution for past wrongs, but the clarity and simplicity of absolute order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Order

There is something in him that craves discipline. Not punishment, not retribution for past wrongs, but the clarity and simplicity of absolute order. He knows what he is capable of, what depths he has fallen to, what damage he can still do - there is an animal inside him, a beast bent on destruction, and he wants - needs - someone to hold his leash. 

First it was the government. He swore his life and soul to his country, was trained and moulded and shaped into a weapon that asked no questions and swallowed every lie until he choked on it. But the country he gave his loyalty to had none for him in return, and when he finally broke free of his captors he turned his back and walked away. 

Second was Damian Moreau. He swore his body and mind to Moreau, became his right hand and blade in the dark. All the things he had once done for God and country, he did for money and a place to belong. But the day came when the weight of death dragged him from his comfortable position, and once again he walked away. 

After that, he swore never again. He was Ronin, the warrior without a master, services available to the highest bidder but never for longer than the job at hand. Twice he had given fealty, twice been misused and betrayed. Trust was not a luxury he could afford to indulge in any more. 

Then came Dubenich, and Nathan Ford, and Leverage. He was being facetious when he said he trusted Ford, but it was increasingly obvious that it was the truth. And as much as the team pissed him off - they had his back, as he had theirs, and Ford watched over them all. 

So Nathan Ford became his third master. One night he walked up the back stairs of McRory's, knocked on the door, stepped inside and sank to his knees, offering Ford his favourite knife hilt first. Nate shut the door, but made no further movement, toward or away. 

"It's not a sexual thing," he explained gruffly, never comfortable talking about himself, never liking having to explain. "I just...need someone. To control me. In case I can't control myself."

"And you've chosen me," it's not really a question, but Ford's always been quick on the uptake and it's not exactly a stretch. 

"Yes, sir," the response is easy, ingrained after so many years of service, but even that familiarity isn't enough to relax him, not while he still doesn't know the answer, doesn't know if his service will be accepted. Maybe he's too damaged, too dangerous, too...whatever to be worthy. But he won't back down, won't withdraw the plea while Nate is still watching him with chess master eyes. 

"I'm honoured," Nate says at last and he flinches, looking down, because that's the start of a letdown speech if ever he's heard one - and he's heard a few, though never for this skill set. He's pretty sure this hurts more, even if he'd half expected it; he's damaged goods, good with his fists but never to be trusted because of it. 

So it's a complete surprise when Ford steps up to him and takes the knife that had started to drop. Startled, he looks up into blue eyes and a familiar smirk that's a lot warmer than he remembers. _Really?_ it says. _Did you forget who I am? I have a plan. I always have a plan._

"What do you need?"

He tells him. 

\--------------------

Later, after he's seen Dam- Moreau for the first time since he left, after the crew find out the worst of him, Nate calls him up and puts him on his knees. It's a relief because he still has this, still has his master, hasn't completely screwed this up. The silence draws him into a light meditation, knowing that Nate is in control lets him turn off his own desperate planning, and he drifts for a while. 

"It was Moreau who taught you this." As so often, it isn't exactly a question, but it invites further clarification. 

"Yes and no," he replies. "The Army had its fair share of codified behaviours - parade rest isn't the most comfortable and you have to hold that for hours on end - but Da- Moreau refined it. Showed me its purpose, explained what it could mean. Gave me the language."

Of course, the lines got blurred a fair bit with D- Moreau, but that was what Moreau did. It wasn't until the end that he realised how far over the line he'd crossed, led every step of the way. But he'd done it eyes open, and he bore his share of blame for the things he'd done. Moreau would pay for his part, too. 

"Do you miss him?"

"What?" He startled, nearly surging to his feet, but Nate was still lounging in his chair like a King on his throne, and he registered belatedly that the tone wasn't accusatory. 

"You were close enough to him for long enough that you still think of him as Damian, not Moreau. He taught you a language of behaviour that emphasises your dependency - not just loyalty but fealty, ownership. Behaviour you continue. Obviously you are no longer his, but that doesn't mean you never were. Do you miss him?"

He took a breath, remembered announcing himself in the sure knowledge that Dam- Moreau - yes, fine, okay, Damian - wouldn't kill him, despite his betrayal, despite walking away, there was still too much between them. Even if he still killed, he wasn't sure he'd be able to kill Damian. He certainly hadn't when he'd left. 

"Yes," he admitted, hunching smaller as he resettled on his knees again. "You - the team - Having another master helps, and you have to know I would do anything to protect the team from him, because I know what he's capable of. I have to believe that he won't go after y'all openly, because he knows what I'm capable of. Being that guy again would destroy me - but I'd do it for you. For them. To take him down. So yeah, I miss him, because you can't know someone like that and not, even when it doesn't end well. But I belong to you now. I don't owe him anything."

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I have a couple of further headcanons for this. In case you missed it, the reason he's so firm with Nate about it not being sexual is because he made that mistake with Damian Moreau. Blurred lines. 
> 
> Hard no: bondage. He gets tied up, he flashes back to some very bad places, and it's very stressful for everyone.   
> Favourite position: on his knees, hands behind his back, his master's hand in his hair. It's a very vulnerable position and it means someone else is both present and in control, so he can completely let go. As far as he's concerned it's better than a full night's sleep.   
> He cooks as a subtle form of service. Plus it's creation and nourishment and life from hands that do a lot of damage.   
> He finds it hard to trust Sophie because she tries to con his service instead of just asking.   
> Overconfidence gets people killed. He's seen it way too often and he doesn't want to see it happen again, so he rags on Hardison hoping to tone him down.


End file.
